I'm sore.......at cold sores.

Can there be a more attractive calling card in the change of seasons than a scab on your face?? And at the change of seasons, is there a more fun way of saying, "Hello world. I'm marked with herpes. This little virus takes the wind out of my sails fast as can be. And being in the sales industry my grooming is a priority, with reduced wind powering me I'm at a loss.

I get all creative and try to crane my face away from public view. I pucker my lips and fan my hand like a coquette's wave in attempts to shield the eyesore (lip sore)from detection. People believe I'm anti social for the ten days I carry this Scarlet Letter around. I try med's to hurry the healing. I play with home remedies and remarkably still have skin left after all the witchcraft. I even concoct stories to cover the outbreak. I've had incidents on my nose that I've attributed to llama bites at State Fair. I've had episodes on my lip that I frequently blame on hot pepperoni pizza and poor manners. I will do anything to distance myself from accepting a virus as nature. Why cant we cure the common cold and hit this next? I'm running out of spin.

I'm asking the blogsphere to send me good juju and let me wake up tomorrow restored. I promise to be a better person and will drink more water and get more rest. I'll make sure that I wipe my feet and let ladies cut in front of me in to parking spaces I think that are mine. I promise the next time I feel one coming on I'll retreat to my lair and ponder the cold sore as an entity, accept it and go on. As long as this damn thing is off my face before the next time I work in front of the public. This I avow. Now off to the mirror for the 32nd time today.

It's not vanity, it's an obsession.